Sparks of Light • •

[franklin damien blythe]

Typically, Franklin hated crowds because they had a chance of triggering the anxiety that had been simmering under his skin since childhood. He also didn’t typically drink because he disliked the sensation of being drunk. However, he didn’t mind a good social night in a bar. Sometimes friends or colleagues would buy a bright, fruity mocktail for him as a joke, but he could laugh along with it. For the most part he felt like it made them feel easier about him being the sole, sober partygoer. For Frankie, a ‘drink’ was a small glass of red wine with a nice meal. They weren’t eating more than bar snacks tonight, so his drink was a tall glass of Pepsi. It was enough for him; plus, he got to be the person who reminded everyone else of the dumb stuff they said or did. He took that as a great bonus – not to mention it kept him covered whenever he managed to do something silly or word something as though it was a deliberate innuendo.

Everyone knew that Frankie was more comfortable in his own home. He actually enjoyed weekends by himself behind his apartment door. It confused some people because he was a single guy, with a good career, working in New York City. In their minds he ought to be living some wild bachelor dream. Frankie’s wildest dream had often been to fully complete a video game in nightmare mode. He hadn’t achieved it yet, but thought small thirty-minute attempts here and there were better than pushing too hard and burning out. He approached his hobbies often like a difficult work problem; slow and easy, with time to avoid unnecessary stress. The move to the big city had helped him with his severe lack of confidence. He was slowly creeping out of his shell more. Things like Friday nights in a bar with friends was a big deal to him, though he played it off as exhaustion when he went home earlier than some, rather than confessing that the place was too crowded for his anxiety riddled mind to handle.

There was still plenty of time to enjoy himself though. He had excused himself to the bathroom when the next round of drinks was being ordered. Everyone knew he wasn’t going to switch from the Pepsi and ice combo he had going on, so it was the perfect moment to leave the table. He suspected a few would still be “umming” over what they wanted by the time he returned. He was then surprised when he saw Freya waiting already at the bar, an empty tray in front of her. He made his way through the small, spaced crowd hanging out close to the bar (probably so they were served quicker when the glasses went empty) and leaned into the space next to his best friend, the elbow of his jacket barely missing a tiny puddle of spilt beer – at least he assumed beer since he could smell it. “So, you drew the short straw of ordering, eh?” He asked, figuring he could lend her a hand getting the drinks back to the table. There was still a fair amount of them celebrating the end of the working week.

• • •

TAGGED! Freya Kellen Lynch
WORDS! 542!
LYRICS! Outlaws - - - Delta Rae
NOTES!